Grand Theft Auto: The Goal
by JohanBohan
Summary: Two brothers try to bounce back from a failed robbery, and end up being pulled into a series of straining events that leave them in turmoil. Set after the events of GTA V. I don't own GTA, only my OCs.
1. Chapter 1 - A Place to Hide

"What the fuck are we gonna do, man? We have nothing! We have no one!"

"Just shut up and let me do my thing, alright, Nate?"

Brothers Nate and Tommy were currently speeding down a highway leading towards Los Santos. Both of them had just gotten out of a sticky situation back in Sandy Shores. They had decided to flee to the city in order to escape the police that had chased them. For now, the cops had stopped chasing them.

"I've got some friends in LS, people who can help us hide from the cops," said Tommy, the older of the two. He was behind the wheel. "You just gotta trust me, alright?"

Nate only nodded in response.

After a few hours, they were driving in the dark streets of Los Santos, in an area called Strawberry. Tommy's friend lived around here, and they drove through a narrow road that led to a few houses. They stopped the car in front of a shady looking home,

"Let me do the talking, man," Tommy said to Nate. Again, Nate only nodded.

They stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. Tommy knocked, and after a few seconds, a tall man opened it.

The man's face lit up when he saw Tommy. "Hey, Tommy, my man! What's crackin', dude?" the man exclaimed, reaching over to clasp Tommy's hand, who said, "How's it going, Lamar?" Tommy smiled, and then his face fell again.

"Lamar, we got a problem."

Lamar appeared unfazed. "Hit me with it."

Tommy looked around to make sure that nobody was listening - he only saw Nate standing next to him. He turned back to Lamar. "Me and a couple of guys were supposed to hit a drug store today - we would've made about 6 G's. But it all went to shit, man. Someone ratted us out, and the cops got our crew - Sam, Jose, and Edgar. Me and Nate here booked it, though. The cops are probably still sniffing for us."

Lamar eyes widened as the story was told. After it was finished, he began to think. He spoke up then. "I could get you guys a temporary place to crash. My boy Gerald's always got connections - he'll get you a place free from the one time's eyes."

"Thanks a mil, Lamar. I owe you one," sighed Tommy. "Can you call him up now? I'm tired as shit, I wanna sleep. I'm sure Nate does too." Tommy gestured towards Nate, who had watched the entire conversation with a stony face.

"Oh shit, I almost didn't see this guy," Lamar said. He held out his hand to Nate. "Name's Lamar." Nate reached out and shook Lamar's hand, and then Lamar started to call Gerald.

After about two hours, the brothers were headed towards a small house located in a somewhat isolated area - Grove Street.

Tommy was driving again. He stayed silent during the entire trip, while Nate simply stated out the window. Neither spoke a word, not even when they had pulled into the driveway and stepped into their shelter. Finally, as they were preparing to sleep (two sofas had been provided), Nate spoke up.

"So what now, man? What will we do? How are we gonna get money?"

Tommy didn't look at Nate, as he was setting up his sofa. He said, "We just gotta cope. For now we're in deep shit but it'll pass. As for money, that's a different question."

"We only know how to make money in one way, dude. And that's what landed us here."

Tommy thought back to the time before the failed drug store robbery, back to the two story hours and the nice car and the comfy bed. He also remembered his money, which had been stored inside the house.

"Fucking cops," Nate muttered. "We would be set if I only hadn't left our money in the house. I heard the cops torched it. They torched it, bro!"

"I know, Nate," Tommy said in a defeated tone, "but we just gotta cope."

And with that, Tommy lay down on the sofa and fell asleep almost at once.

 **I'll be uploading another chapter soon. Leave a review or fav if you like this beginning! - JohanBohan**


	2. Chapter 2 - The Drive

When Tommy awoke the following morning, he stared at the ceiling for a while. He began to ponder their situation, and the actual seriousness of it. Nate had been right; there was only one way they knew how to make money, and that was through petty crime. And right now, they had no work whatsoever.

Tommy got up from his sofa and looked over at Nate, who was still sleeping soundly. Deciding to let him rest, Tommy exited the shelter and stepped out into the sunlit Grove Street. Few people were outside, since it was still a bit early, but Tommy paid them no attention. He pulled out his phone and dialed Lamar's cell.

Lamar answered after the first ring. "Tommy! What's happenin'?"

"I gotta swing by your place for a bit," Tommy replied. "That cool with you?"

"For sho, man. I'm here."

"Thanks, man," said Tommy, before he hung up. As he stepped into his car, he thought out a plan: he was going to ask Lamar for some work. Sure, it probably wouldn't be good work, but it would put food on the table. He started the car and began his drive.

A few minutes later, he was parking his car in front of Lamar's home. He stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. However, there was no need to knock, as the door opened when he got there. He was greeted by a dog leaping up at him, attempting to put its paws on Tommy's shoulders.

"Get off him, Chop!" Tommy heard Lamar's voice from behind the dog. Looking up, he saw Lamar pulling the dog away from him. "Still training him?" Tommy asked.

"Trying to. He doesn't listen to me anymore," said Lamar, fastening a leash to Chop's collar. "He only listens to Frank."

"Who the hell's Frank?" Tommy inquired.

Lamar only said, "An old homie of mine."

Tommy noted that perhaps Lamar didn't want to talk about this Frank. Instead, he told Lamar about his situation.

"Look man, me and Nate need some work, work that'll get us money. You got any? I'm down for anything."

Lamar thought for a bit, and his face fell. "I don't have anything, my dude. Sorry."

"Fuck me. You sure you have nothing?" Tommy was getting desperate.

Lamar's face brightened a bit as he said, "Gerald's probably got something you boys could do. Come on, we'll swing by his place."

"Sounds good," Tommy replied. Lamar ushered Chop back into the house before closing the door, and the two of them walked to and stepped into Tommy's car. Tommy began driving to Gerald's place, with Lamar occasionally giving directions.

"Turn left here, and then just keep going straight," said Lamar, as they approached an intersection. Looking over at Tommy, he asked, "So, what really went down? At the drug store, I mean?"

Tommy sighed. "Someone set us up, man. We were all set, we were gonna hit when the cops weren't around and when the security was on break. No way they coulda known about it. Someone sold us out."

Lamar's eyes widened. "Who sold you out?"

Tommy didn't look away from the road. "It was one of our guys. Clarence. Turns out he wanted me and Nate's stash of money for himself, so he agreed to hand us over in exchange for the money. Fuckin' asshole."

"What a bitch ass," Lamar said, shaking his head. "What happened to him?"

Tommy took a breath. "The guy who gave us the job, Rodrigo, heard about what happened. Me and Nate had been working under him for about a year, so we knew him pretty well. He was the only one who knew where the money was, besides me and Nate. Anyway, Rodrigo found Clarence in our old safehouse, looking for our money. Clarence tried to stab Rordigo, but Rodrigo killed him first. One bullet right in the head." Tommy concluded his sentence with a mock gunshot gesture to his own head.

"Damn! And what about your stash? How much was it?"

Tommy turned to face Lamar. "It was almost three million, and it got destroyed. The cops arrived at the safehouse to clear out any people who might've still been there; they'd already gotten Sam, Edgar and Jose. After Rodrigo killed Clarence, he started to go downstairs for our money. But the cops stormed the house from downstairs and started the fire before Rodrigo could do it. He had to jump out of a window to shake them."

"And what about this Rodrigo guy?" Lamar asked.

"On the run, last I heard. Nate and I stole this car, and just started driving. I thought about coming to you for help. And here we are." With Tommy's story finished, Lamar fell silent, only speaking to give directions.

After a moment, Lamar said, "This is the homie's place." Tommy parked his car in front of a large apartment complex. He switched the car off and said, "So what's the plan? We just gonna ask him for work like a nice little gentleman?"

"Nah, dude. Just let me do the talking." Lamar gestured towards the building. "Gerald's kinda paranoid, so no sudden movements."

"I've gotcha, man, don't worry," said Tommy, as he and Lamar exited the car.

 **So there's the second chapter. Keep an eye out for the next one. Leave a review or a fav if you're enjoying this story so far! - JohanBohan**


	3. Chapter 3 - Time to Go to Work

**This chapter is a bit lengthy, and also quite violent. There's some mention of gore in this chapter, so you've been warned.**

 **Also, I just remembered that the protagonist of GTA Vice City was named Tommy. I probably don't have to say this, but just in case: my Tommy is not Vice City Tommy. But, anyways, here's the third chapter.**

Tommy and Lamar walked into the complex's courtyard. Doors lined the walls to form a square in the center. Lamar walked to a door to the left of where they entered, and knocked once. There was a few seconds of silence, and then the door swung open.

A rather short person walked out, wearing almost all black; his jeans and large t-shirt were almost the same color. He sported a black hat (trilby or fedora, or neither - Tommy couldn't tell) on his head. This, Tommy thought, had to be Gerald. He eyed Tommy suspiciously.

"Who's the guy?" Gerald inquired, not taking his eyes off of Tommy.

"Uh, he's one of my old friends," replied Lamar. "You know, like Frank, except I haven't known this guy as long."

Gerald stared Tommy down for what felt like hours. Tommy didn't look away, instead staring right back at Gerald. Finally, Gerald turned to Lamar.

"What do you need now? If it's money, you can kindly walk away."

Lamar had an annoyed expression on his face as he said, "No, I don't need money, but my boy Tommy here does. He needs some work, and I figured you'd have some shit for him to do."

Gerald's expression grew less hostile. "If he's willing, I'll give him a job. The usual set-up. Take some product from some dealers, grab whatever money is found, and come back."

"That'd be fine," Tommy said. "Where's the guy at?"

"Guys," Gerald corrected. "Dealers never work alone, man. Remember that. They're near a construction site, in Pillbox Hill. This job would work better if you had a second gunman to help you."

Tommy looked over at Lamar, who had been watching the exchange silently. When he noticed Tommy looking at him, he shook his head. "I think you should take your brother for this one, since both of y'all need the money."

Tommy nodded. Turning back to Gerald, he said, "I'm in. When do I start."

Gerald handed Tommy two M1911s. "Now."

Alone in his car, Tommy dialed Nate's cell. Nate answered his phone immediately.

"Tom? Where the fuck are you? I woke up and you were gone and-"

"Listen, man, you've gotta come with me to do this job I just got," Tommy said. "I know we just fucked up big time yesterday, but this time we're gonna make sure it goes right."

"Fucking hell. Now?" Nate sounded as if he'd rather do anything but work, which annoyed Tommy. "Yes, now. I'm swinging by the house, so be ready." Tommy started the car and began driving towards his home.

"And don't complain!" he added. "This is our first step to getting back on our feet, and I'm not letting you fuck it up."

"Fine. I'll be here," Nate said, and the call ended abruptly.

Twenty minutes later, and Tommy had picked Nate up and driven to the construction site. There, he could see about ten people gathered around. Several black SUVs were parked around them. Tommy parked the car across the street and tried to think of a plan. However, Nate interrupted his thoughts.

"So what now, huh? We just gonna ask them for the drugs?"

Tommy frowned at Nate. "Shut up. Let me think of something, alright?"

"Oh, because that worked so well last time, didn't it?"

"I said shut up, so shut up!"

Tommy handed Nate one of the guns that Gerald had given him. Looking at it, Nate cocked his head. "Y'know what? I've got an idea," he said as he stepped out of the car. He began to storm across the street towards the dealers. Cursing, Tommy hurriedly exited the car and jogged over to Nate. When he caught up, he grabbed Nate by the arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tommy demanded.

"I'm doing our job, man. Just trust me!" Nate wrenched his arm from his brother's grip and continued on his way. Left with no choice, Tommy followed.

As they approached the dealers, Tommy grew more nervous. What was Nate going to do? He had always been hot-headed, but he would never compromise a job like this. Tommy wanted to stop Nate, but when they were about twenty feet from the dealers, one of them shouted at them.

"Hey! What're you punks doing here?" The other dealers looked around and saw the brothers approaching.

Nate spoke first. "I'm here to my job, asshole. You've got something that belongs to someone else now!"

The dealer pulled a gun from his jacket. "You better leave now, jackass! If you know what's good for you!"

Tommy placed his hand on the grip of his gun, and he saw Nate do the same. Nate continued to taunt the dealer.

"What'll be good for me is taking the shit that I'm being paid to take! And I intend to do that!"

The dealer fired a shot, which missed Nate by inches. Left with no other options, Tommy pulled his gun and shot the dealer twice in the abdomen. Nate picked off two dealers with shots to their heads.

"Jesus, man!" Tommy shouted, as he and Nate ran and took cover behind one of the many vehicles. Bullets rained upon the vehicles they were hidden behind. "Try not to be so gruesome!"

"Hey, how about you do you? There's an idea!"

"Smartass," Tommy muttered. He peeked up through the SUV's window and saw a dealer rising from his own car. Tommy took aim and shot him in his shoulder. Tommy was forced to duck as dealers shot through the car's windows. He quickly rose from cover again and shot two more dealers in the stomach, which incapacitated them immediately. However, another dealer aimed a shot at Tommy and fired; the bullet struck Tommy in the bicep. Howling in pain, he ducked behind the car, clutching his arm.

Nate ran from his cover and tackled the culprit to the ground. Once the dealer was pinned, Nate killed him by shooting him through the temple. The dealer's blood blasted out onto the ground as the bullet went through.

Seeing this, the remaining dealers decided that the drugs weren't worth it, and began to run. Tommy yelled after them. "Tell your boss that if he wants the drugs back, he can go fuck himself!"

Nate began to laugh. He looked towards Tommy, and noticed his bleeding arm. "One got you," he said, gesturing towards the wound.

"I'm aware of that," Tommy retorted. In the aftermath of the shoot out, he could hear distant sirens. "Cops. Come on. Grab the product and let's get outta here."

Nate began to search a small area in the middle of the group of SUVs, where the dealers had been standing. Bodies still littered the area, and blood still flowed from them. Nate wasn't disturbed by the carnage they had caused at all; he'd been through worse. Looking around, and finding nothing, Nate began to search the cars' interior. The drugs were found in the first car he checked; a red duffel bag, which was zipped shut, most likely contained everything they needed. Choosing not to open it, Nate took the bag and walked over to Tommy, who was pulling a black backpack from an adjacent SUV.

Nate grew curious as to why his brother was holding the backpack, or why he had suddenly emitted a bark of laughter. When Nate was close enough to Tommy, he saw why his brother had been laughing.

"What do you think?" Tommy said, his grin wide. "Not bad for an early job, huh?"

The backpack was about half full of wads of dollar bills. It was easily more than three thousand dollars. Nate pumped a fist into the air. "This is the kinda shit I look for in a job," he said, pointing at the money.

Chuckling, Tommy closed the backpack. Suddenly, his wound didn't sting so bad anymore. "Now come on. We gotta deliver the product to Gerald."

The two began to walk back towards their car across the street, with Nate carrying both bags and the red duffel bag, and Tommy clutching his still bleeding wound. They couldn't resist laughing as they got into the car and sped off.

But, unbeknownst to them, one of the injured dealers was dialing a number into their phone. He raised it to his ear, and, after a moment, said, "Two fuckers attacked us, boss. They said they were working for Gerald."

 **So that's that. I hope you guys are liking this! See you in the next chapter! - JohanBohan**


	4. Chapter 4 - An Offer

**For those of you reading, hello! Sorry for not updating for a while, I've been quite busy with schoolwork. Ill try to update as often as I can. With that, here's Chapter 4!**

"Good work. I'll make sure to come to you guys if I have anything else."

Tommy and Nate had just delivered the duffel bag to Gerald. He let them keep the backpack of money, and he also gave them a bonus of one thousand dollars. Tommy and Nate nodded enthusiastically before turning to leave. Gerald stepped back into his apartment as the brothers walked towards their car.

During the drive home, Tommy spoke first. "Didn't I say we wouldn't fuck this up? Now ain't you glad you decided to tag along?"

Nate scoffed. "Just save it. We have our money already, man. You don't have to gloat."

"Just trying to make you less negative for future work, little brother," Tommy chuckled. Arriving at the house, he parked the car and stepped out. He walked towards the door and turned around to look at Nate, who had lagged behind.

"Come on, man. Let's get inside," Tommy called. Nate looked at Tommy to retort, but instead, his eyes widened as looked at something behind his brother.

"What the fuck?" Nate pointed over Tommy's shoulder. "Tom, behind you!"

Tommy turned around just as he was struck by the butt of a rifle. As he collapsed, he saw Nate rush at the assailant; unfortunately, they struck Nate's face, and he went down at once. Tommy looked at Nate's motionless figure, before his mind faded to nothing.

"Wake up."

Tommy heard these words as if they were spoken by someone fifty feet away. His head was very sore, and he was still groggy. He began to drift back into unconsciousness; someone hit him across the face to prevent him from waking up.

"Wake up!" The person said again, louder this time.

Tommy's eyes snapped open, and he found the source of the voice: Nate had been trying to get him to come to.

"About time, man!" Nate sported a large bruise on his forehead, and Tommy felt a bump on the back of his own head. Groaning, he forced himself to sit up. Looking around, he saw that it was early evening, and that the sun was just beginning to set. His car was right where it had been; they were still in front of their house.

"What the fuck just happened?" Tommy asked, more to himself than to Nate.

"Whoever it was, they took the money," Nate said, anger fresh in his voice. "Fuck this, man. We're back to square one."

"It don't matter," Tommy said as he pulled himself to his feet. "Least we're still alive; that asshole could've killed us," he added, massaging his head.

"Better dead than broke, man." Nate stomped towards the door.

Tommy was trying to think of a way to recover their money when Nate called out to him. "Tommy! There's a paper on our door!"

Tommy looked over to see Nate take a small piece of paper off of their door. Nate jogged towards his brother, paper in hand. He gave it to Tommy once he was close enough.

Tommy looked at the paper and saw something written on it - a phone number - in a hasty scrawl. He frowned and looked at Nate questioningly. Nate only shrugged, clearly as baffled as he was.

Out of morbid curiosity, Tommy pulled his cellphone from his pocket and began to dial the number.

"What're you doing?" Nate asked nervously.

As he dialed, Tommy scoffed. "That should be obvious," he said, holding the phone to his ear as it began to call the number. The phone was answered very quickly.

A rather cool voice came through. "Well hello there, friend. I'm sure you're wondering why I left my cell for you to find."

Tommy put his cell on speakerphone before he answered. "Who the hell are you? Where the fuck is my money?"

The voice laughed for a bit. "I think you mean _my_ money. I can tell you that I've had someone...repossess it. And as for who I am, I'm going to tell you! I'm Oscar Guzman, dealer of weapons, arms, and, most recently, drugs."

Tommy looked at Nate, who wore a wary expression. Tommy himself didn't know where this call was going, so he remained silent as the man named Oscar went on,

"The deal you disrupted was one of my very own. You took some of my valued product, and I thought that I would take it back. Instead of drugs, however, we found money. Which is good. But not good enough."

Tommy and Nate now saw where this was headed. Nate shook his head and walked away, intending on entering the house so that he could rest. Tommy, left outside, spoke again,

"Get to the point. What do you want from me and my brother?"

Oscar laughed again. "I want payback. But I'm not going to kill you. No, you'll be doing some work for me. You take my drugs, money, and kill a few of my guys, and I take my money back and make you work for me. Fair, right?"

Tommy scowled. He didn't have any confirmation, but he was sure that this Guzman character was an influential member of a powerful gang; he knew better than to take his chances. Sighing, he said,

"It sounds like a perfectly reasonable deal," Tommy said through clenched teeth.

"Perfect!" Oscar exclaimed. "Here's the setup: there's a couple of cars that I want for myself, a black Tornado and a yellow Gauntlet. They'll be parked outside of a Los Santos Customs, the one in Blaine County, near Route 68. Deliver them to Mackenzie Airfield once you have them. I'll be waiting."

The call ended as quickly as it had started. Tommy's head was buzzing with the recent events; his store job gone wrong, his meeting with Lamar, the recent drug deal, and now this. Tommy wondered if he would ever have a proper day of rest. He decided to inform Nate of their situation; he walked towards the house, putting his phone back into his pocket as he walked.

"Nobody ever said making money was glamorous," he said, as he opened the door and shut it behind him.


	5. Chapter 5 - Cars and Guns

Tommy and Nate had decided to get their job over with as quickly as possible; they didn't know if Oscar Guzman was a patient man. They left as soon as morning came. Neither of them spoke to one another as they got into the car.

Given how the last job went, they decided to stop by Ammu-Nation for a resupply of ammo for their pistols. Since they were new to this particular location, their purchase was free. This caused Nate to snag a new shotgun (much to Tommy's chagrin).

Tommy was behind the wheel again. He had been driving for about an hour already; Blaine County was ways away, and he was bored of staring at the road and signs. Nate simply browsed his cellphone during the drive; he was certainly more entertained than his brother. Neither of them spoke until they could see their destination; the Los Santos Customs.

Tommy decided to park in the lot provided by the building. Nate looked up when Tommy stopped the car. Putting his phone away, he observed his surroundings: the building, with its beaten up sign, the dusty parking lot, and the desert surrounding them. The Tornado and the Gauntlet were nowhere to be seen.

"I don't see anybody suspicious, or the cars," he said, brows furrowing. "Maybe nobody's home."

"You're missing the bigger picture," Tommy remarked. "This could be a trap. Or worse."

Nate looked at Tommy, and he saw his brother do the same. Reaching a nonverbal agreement, the two nodded, drew their guns, and stepped out of the car.

Besides the occasional car passing by on the road, the building seemed completely deserted - on the outside. After searching the perimeter (and only finding more dust), they decided to enter the shop.

Walking over to the garage door, the two planned to lift it from the ground. However, there was no need; the door began to open with a loud buzz once they got close enough to the door. Both of them jumped out of their skins, but they calmed down when they saw that it was only the door.

Now, with the door fully open, they walked inside. It was more or less a garage, except much larger; a tool bench and table rested against the wall opposite them. An area designated for paint jobs was to their left; a car was currently placed here. A catwalk, from which cranes and jacks were operated, stretched above them. A mechanic in a yellow bandana was currently facing away from them, busy working on the engine of a second car.

Coincidentally, the car in question was the black Tornado; it did not sport any significant features, besides its tinted windows. The yellow Gauntlet, Tommy noticed, was the car he had seen when he had glanced towards the paint job station.

Tommy looked over at Nate, who shrugged. Tommy turned back towards the mechanic, who was still busy with the Tornado. Perhaps this job would be much easier than anticipated? Both Nate and Tommy put their guns away.

Tommy's theory proved to be true when Nate simply walked up to the mechanic and gave him a strong strike to the back of his head, so strong that the bandana flew off of his head. He went down at once. Nate gave Tommy, who hadn't moved, a thumbs up, and a smug grin. Tommy raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Ten minutes later, the two were driving down a narrow road towards McKenzie Airfield with the target cars. Nate, who had taken the Gauntlet, was driving behind Tommy. Tommy had just entered the airfield's location on his GPS when Nate decided to call his cell. When the phone rang, Tommy rolled his eyes and answered the phone. He jabbed the speakerphone button so that he wouldn't have to use his hands to hold his phone.

Before Tommy could speak, Nate's voice came through. "Hey man. So, these cars. Aren't they supposed to go fast?"

Tommy, taken by surprise because of Nate's quick reply, said nothing. Of course these cars could go fast. Any car under enough pressure could easily surpass 80 miles per hour.

"All cars go fast, dumbass," Tommy drawled, eyes still fixed on the road. He could see the hangar of McKenzie Field in the distance. "Besides, what are you talking about? What does speed gotta do with anything that we're focusing on now?"

"Check your speedometer. We ain't even pushing 50, man."

At this, Tommy's brows furrowed. He checked his dashboard; indeed, the Tornado was only going at a speed of 43 miles per hour. Surely a slim, sleek car could easily surpass 60?

It was Tommy's turn to ask questions. "So what're you saying? That the cars are modded to go a lot slower? Or maybe that mechanic fucked with the engines?"

"Neither," Nate's voice replied. "I'm saying, are we hauling anything in these cars?"

Now Tommy's mind was spurring into action. What if they were hauling something around? Had Oscar set them up with more drugs, and was planning on farming them for the theft of them?

"We'll see what happens when we get there," Tommy said finally. "Let me do the talking, please," he added, his voice becoming stern.

"Whatever man. See you soon." The call ended shortly afterwards.

Arriving at the airfield, the brothers parked the cars next to the empty hangar. The airstrip was also empty, save for some tumbleweeds. As they stepped out of the cars, a man stepped out from inside the hangar. He was wearing a red and black button-up shirt, with a floral and gold design decorating the middle. His hair was slicked back and shiny, and he sported a light stubble. He looked to be about thirty years of age. This, Tommy concluded, had to be Oscar Guzman.

Oscar smiled when he saw the two, and the smile widened when he saw the cars.

"Excellent! Real good work, guys. I mean it. Really." He walked to the cars and marveled at them for a moment.

"Care to explain to us why you wanted these rides?" Nate demanded. Tommy could have shot him right there and then; he could jeopardize their lives with crass remarks. To his relief, Oscar did not appear offended.

"Why don't I show you?" he offered, gesturing towards the vehicles. "You did complete the work, as you both promised."

Tommy thought about reminding Oscar that he hadn't promised anything at all, but he kept quiet as Oscar moved towards the trunks of the cars. He pulled out a sort of key and inserted it into the keyholes that each trunk apparently had. When he had unlocked both of them, he lifted them open. Seeing the contents, Nate's eyes widened, and Tommy's jaw dropped.

The trunks were filled to the brim with a huge amount of weapons. Rifles, pistols, shotguns, grenades, magazines, armor, and even launchers were placed haphazardly inside the trunks. Tommy wondered how someone could manage to close the doors without having to remove the weapons.

"Well, I am a gun runner, you know. My business does very well, as you can clearly see." His words shook Nate and Tommy from their stupors. Oscar kept on explaining. "I obtain a number of guns and I have someone deliver them. You'd be surprised at how much people in Mexico are willing to pay for a decent gun."

Nate shook his head,p in an attempt to clear it. "Hang on. How the hell did you get away with storing half of the army's stash into two cars? There was a mechanic in the shop; he coulda seen the guns!"

Oscar looked puzzled. "A mechanic? He was taken care of by one of my guys before you got there. He was supposed to ready the cars and put the guns in them for you guys."

"Oh shit. Was he wearing a yellow bandana?" Nate asked. Oscar's eyebrows raised slightly. "He was. Why do you ask?"

"We saw him leave," Tommy interjected. "We thought he might've been an employee." He decided to omit the part where Nate had left the "mechanic" incapacitated. Oscar probed no further.

He suddenly looked behind the two. He pointed at the sky and said, "Here comes my delivery guy. Real trustworthy friend of mine, he is."

Tommy turned first. Looking up, he saw a plane coming in for landing. He saw its landing gear deploy, and he watched as the plane touched the ground and slowly came to a halt. The plane didn't completely stop until it was about ten feet away. The plane's propellers stopped moving after a few moments, and a man clambered out of the cockpit.

When the man walked towards, them, Nate and Tommy could see him clearly. He looked much older than Oscar, most likely in his mid-forties. His hair was stringy and thin, and he was going slightly bald at the top of his head. His eyes were wide and attentive, and his face sported many scars. His arms, visible because of his red t-shirt, were covered in blemishes and scars, and Tommy could see tattoos here and there.

"Oscar, amigo! I dropped the packages off for ya!" The man spoke in a lively voice, and Tommy thought he heard a Canadian accent in his voice. Oscar responded to the man with enthusiasm.

"That's great! I've got your next shipment and payment ready to go, as soon as you're able."

The man in red turned towards Tommy and Nate when he reached them. Gesturing towards them, he asked, "And these clowns? Who are they?"

"New employees," replied Oscar. Turning towards the brothers, he gestured towards the man.

"This," he said, chuckling, "is Trevor. Trevor Philips."

 **And Trevor is introduced! I'll have the next update posted in a few days, so be on the look out for it!**


End file.
